


The Empress

by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 404 Ben Solo Not Found, 404 Light Sider Rey Not Found, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And It's Bad Ass the Way it Happens, Devoted Kylo Ren, Empress Rey, F/M, Poisoned Fruit Trope, Rapid Cur General Hux, Renperor, So Don't Get All Worked Up About It, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The Major Character Death is (spoiler) Hux, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryminded/pseuds/delia-pavorum
Summary: Hux had allowed his rabidity and hatred for the Supreme Leader, wrought from years of living in his shadow, to cloud his judgement and perceptions when it came to the support he believed he would receive in sedition.At first, the Supreme Leader said nothing. Simply allowed the plans to unfold as they would and bided his time, waiting for the opportune moment to deliver the man his comeuppance.Until, one evening, the general went too far.





	The Empress

**Author's Note:**

> This was a one-shot I wrote for my darling friend [raven-maiden](http://raven-maiden.tumblr.com) on her birthday.
> 
> You will never find a sweeter, kinder, more thoughtful or intelligent person and I adore her. She also happens to have a thing for Empress!Rey and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren tearing shit up. I was more than happy to oblige. Happy Birthday, sweet Raven! Love you girl.

> _When our two souls stand up erect and strong,_   
>  _Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,_   
>  _Until the lengthening wings break into fire_   
>  _At either curvèd point,—what bitter wrong_   
>  _Can the earth do to us, that we should not long_   
>  _Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,_   
>  _The angels would press on us and aspire_   
>  _To drop some golden orb of perfect song_   
>  _Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay_   
>  _Rather on earth, Belovèd,—where the unfit_   
>  _Contrarious moods of men recoil away_   
>  _And isolate pure spirits, and permit_   
>  _A place to stand and love in for a day,_   
>  _With darkness and the death-hour rounding it._

E.B. Browning, Sonnet XXII

* * *

It didn’t take them long to realize Hux was staging a coup.

It was laughable, really, the depths to which he had mired himself, for believing that _his_ cause was the one that was just.

More laughable were the mistakes. The first and most evident being how he believed he could, somehow, outwit and outmaster two of the most Force sensitive beings in the galaxy. A second, more insidious, but equally fatal error was overestimating the prevalence of fear and working under the assumption that it went hand in hand with disloyalty and a willingness to revolt.

The fact of the matter was, most on board the _Mandator-V_ had little reason to defect. The Supreme Leader and his Empress, while still on a quest for galactic governance, had proven to be both wise and benevolent in their dealings with other planetary organizations and the life therein.

Hux had allowed his rabidity and hatred for the Supreme Leader, wrought from years of living in his shadow, to cloud his judgement and perceptions when it came to the support he believed he would receive in sedition.

And clouded he was. Building a case with those whom he perceived to be on his side, when the same faces would then turn and whisper into the ears of the Supreme Leader. Gathering forces and ammunition that he would never have the chance to use. Plotting. Always plotting.

At first, the Supreme Leader said nothing. Simply allowed the plans to unfold as they would and bided his time, waiting for the opportune moment to deliver the man his comeuppance.

Until, one evening, the general went too far.

The Supreme Leader waited upon his throne, simmering with barely concealed rage. His and the Empress’ personal guards, as well as the rest of his select, imperial army remained flanked at his side, weapons held in a restful but ready stance.

The Empress touched his arm softly.

 _Control_.

The words filtered through his mind, having maybe a fraction of the pacifying effect that was intended.

He took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale in an attempt to moderate his emotions. It barely worked. It was times like these that he wished he still wore a mask. It assisted in the instances in which he had trouble concealing his emotions (an unfortunately common occurrence).

Hux’s over-confidence had made him impatient. Impatience had made him careless and stupid.

Carelessness and stupidity had caused him to attempt to expedite his mission in a dangerous and lethal way.

It never would have worked. But the attempt was enough to send the Supreme Leader into a fury the likes of which he hadn’t felt in ages.

It took all his power to remain seated and present the illusion of serenity, when all he wanted to do was outstretch his arm and throttle the life out of the other man without even breaking a sweat.

Even the way the general strutted into the throne room, as though he hadn’t a singular concern on his mind, greeting the Supreme Leader and the Supreme Empress with a grandiose genuflection and a spoken salutation, before addressing them directly.

“You summoned me, my lord?” He turned to the Empress and his teeth glinted in a smile that more closely resembling a sneer. “My lady? You’re looking...well.” Not a single ripple of concern radiated from the man. The only emotion the Supreme Leader sensed was mild derision, with the salient edge of something that could be construed as anticipation.  Whatever actions he had enacted, he was convinced they were on their way to being executed. Perhaps not that evening or the previous one. But soon.

The Supreme Leader felt his fists clench involuntarily.

 _Control_.

The voice infiltrated his mind once more and he calmed in small measures.

“We did summon you.”

It was the Empress who responded, before the Supreme Leader had a chance. He hadn’t expected her to address the general directly and he couldn’t help his reaction - a quick swiveling of his head in her direction.

He watched her as she sat, regal in her bearing, a learned behaviour - in the early days, he used to prop her up himself, holding her straight and steady with his mind while she would shoot him withering glances. Now, seeing her sitting like that as part of her natural inclination, he felt a softness; a pang of reminiscence. Glancing down at her hands, crossed in her lap, he detected the slightest tremor. The softness turned hard, implacable - angry once more, he turned back to glare at the general and waited for her to continue.

Her voice carried on, echoing in the cavernous space. “I had wanted to consult you on a matter in which I felt you had much experience.”

For the first time, Hux looked taken aback. The Supreme Leader understood why. The Empress had never, until that moment, addressed him directly. Instead, she had chosen to relay her messages to him through the Supreme Leader or her subordinates. Mainly because she couldn’t be bothered to match his disdain with anything other than indifference and together they accomplished nothing. She had never before had the inclination to speak to him, nor the necessity.

Recent events had changed that. 

The Supreme Leader shot him a sharp look after a few beats in which Hux’s shock had rendered him momentarily silent. Seeming to remember himself, he visibly straightened and cleared his face of any emotion, aside from a barely distinguishable curling of his lip.

“Yes, Supreme Empress? I am happy to assist in any way I can.” His nasally, clipped tone remained moderate, his voice devoid of sentiment, aside from mild - surely false - deference.

Instead of answering him, the Empress drew something out from behind her - a plate, muted in colour, resting on the arm of her throne. An object sat upon it. One hand still holding the plate, she made a quick motion with her other hand and sent the object hurtling in his direction.

Reflexively, he caught it in both hands. Puzzled, he looked down. It took a moment for him to register what it was, but when he did, his face lost whatever little colour it already naturally had. To his credit, he appeared to resist the urge to throw it to the floor, instead holding it in a tentative and shaky grip.

“The domrai,” the Empress stated, as though about to conduct a lesson on the florae and faunae of the galaxy at large. “An interesting fruit, to be sure. Being raised on a sand-savaged planet such as Jakku, with little in the way of proper sustenance, you’ll forgive me if I’m unaware of the habits and customs of others when it comes to the appropriate way of consuming certain things.”

The Supreme Leader, catching the play, had to hide his burgeoning grin behind his hand. By the Maker, did she impress him.

“If you would be so kind, I would appreciate the enlightenment,” she continued, nodding towards the fruit, “as to how one would enjoy such a delicacy.”

Hux swallowed hard, all semblance of bravado disintegrating by the second. “Er, you _—_ my _—_ my lady, Supreme Empress, I _—_ I _—_ I’m not sure I _—_ ”

“You heard her,” the Supreme Leader rumbled, impatient with delays and interested in seeing the culmination of the performance playing out in front of him. “Show her how to eat it, General.”

Hux looked like he was going to be sick. He glanced down at the fruit in his trembling hand. “My _—_ my lady, I _—_ ”

“Eat it.” Her voice rang out, clear and distinct, echoing throughout the chamber. “Eat it, as you would have had me eat it last night, when it was offered to me on a platter by one of your lackeys. Eat it, as I would have, sharing a piece with my husband as well, if another had not warned me of your deceit just in time.”

She leaned forward in her seat, fingers clenched in the arms of her throne, her posture and bearing still befitting of a monarch _—_ back straight, diadem resting perfectly at the top of her head, firegems and Naboo night pearls adorning it, glinting red and black in the dim light, with indigo-dark velvet robes pooling at her feet. Her eyes glinted darkly as well, capturing only a modicum of the light in the room around her. She met his gaze with her own, pinning him to the spot without even conjuring the Force. When she spoke again, her voice was low and vehement. 

“Eat it.”

* * *

Later than evening, when the Supreme Leader and his Empress had retired to their rooms, he silently drew her to their bed.

Standing at the end of it, he reverently removed the begemmed circlet atop her head. Drawing his fingers down, he loosened her hair into undulating waves resting her shoulders. Bringing his hands lower, he unclasped the fasteners holding the billowing material of her garment together. A few more clicks and the shift fell from her shoulders until her bare torso was revealed to him.

Her dark, dusky nipples pebbled in the light of thousands of stars emanating from the viewport that crested the upper portion of their bed. Gooseflesh rose atop her skin, pale and glowing.

The viewport had been a luxury that the Supreme Leader would never have dreamed of in his previous, more ascetic days of ruling. Once the Empress had agreed to rule by his side, he found himself ordering the inclusion of certain additions to his -- their -- new living quarters. Things that would make it pleasing, rather than simply functional.

He wanted that for her; all the opulence and beauty in the galaxy at her disposal, for her perusal, after a lifetime of scarcity and brutality.

As she stood there, ethereal and exquisite, bared to him, he took a deep, shuddering breath. Anyone observing the two in the intimacy of that moment would assume that it was the Empress at the Supreme Leader’s mercy, standing still and being undressed at the whim of her mate.

What they would not, could not, see unless they looked very closely, was the reverence in a glinting iris, the trembling of a large, pale hand bereft of its glove. A Supreme Leader, entranced and enraptured, fully committed to the comfort and pleasure of his wife as she, chin high, silently _allowed_ him the privilege of her body.

When he had undressed her totally and she stood nude in the pale light of the stars, he gradually sank to his knees, still fully clothed, before placing a kiss on her bare belly.

 _I was too close to losing you_.

The shaky admission was heard as clearly as if it had been spoken. He tightened his fingers at her hips, involuntarily projecting his emotion, the preamble to what would have been unimaginable grief, into his stiffening joints. He rested his forehead against her skin, overcome. 

She brought her hands up to his hair and raked her fingers through the sable locks, wordlessly comforting him.

 _You—_ He stopped. The image came to them both of the General, cringing and weeping as he bit into the poisoned, juicy pulp of the domrai.

_Yes._

He looked up at her. _Regrets?_

Another image flickered. This time, of the General holding his throat as he writhed on the floor, face purple, mouth foaming. For a brief instant, the General in their shared mind was replaced with an image of the Supreme Leader himself. Falling, writhing. Dying.

His gaze quickly caught hers. She looked back at him, her eyes fathomless and sure.

_No._

She pulled him up and he stood readily, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her nude body to his large frame, nipples scraping against his cowl, ridged sleeves digging into her back. He could feel it as she could, for that was how things were for them now.

Drawing her closer still, he lifted her and laid her gently on the bed.

Shedding his clothes quickly, he joined her, rising above her, bringing his face down to kiss her mouth, her jaw, her neck.

She rolled her hips up into his once, then again. On the third time, she forcefully flipped them both, so she was on top and he was underneath. He swallowed hard, his ardour heightened to unimaginable levels at the sight of her, on top of him, taking control as she saw fit.

Reaching for him, she wrapped her hand around the stiff member resting just beyond the apex of her thighs. He groaned as her grip tightened, bucking slightly in her grasp, unable to hold still. She moved closer, drawing him towards her, through the wetness already accumulated.

Notching him into the liquid give of her body, she sunk down ever so lightly, taking him only about half way.

She bit her lip and he groaned again, loudly, steadying her with his hands at her hips. Slowly, she sank down further and the moan in her throat could no longer be contained by the white teeth sinking into her plush lower lip. She released it on an exhale ending in a gasp, settling down onto his body, with him fully sheathed within her.

Steadily, she rocked back and forth, falling into a familiar rhythm. His hands dug into her hips and thighs, long fingers reaching towards her buttocks. Her pace grew quicker, more frenzied, as she could feel his own climax approaching, conflating it with her own.

When she came, her voice, her real voice, cried out his name. The one nobody was allowed to utter but her.

The one that belonged to her alone.

 _It all belongs to you_ , he told her afterwards as they lay together in the afterglow. _All that I have. All that I am_.

“And I will destroy anyone who tries to harm you,” he added, a whisper into her hair. A kiss to seal it.

“Or, my love,” she whispered back, pressing a return kiss into the hollow between his shoulder and his collarbone. “I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey... hey! Follow me on [tumblr](http://delia-pavorum.tumblr.com) or something.


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